


Made For Marrying, Marion

by Basmathgirl



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Historical Inaccuracy, Marriage of Convenience, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3314198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor unexpectedly finds himself in a chastity belt, and it is up to Donna to help him get out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** The Doctor in a chastity belt, written using as many movie quotes as possible.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own any characters from Doctor Who, or Robin Hood: Men In Tights! If I did I’d be employed by Hollywood (the one in California).  
>  **A/N:** This was written because tkelparis challenged me to write a “Doctor in a chastity belt” fic way back in February 2011. The aim was to be as amusing as possible… not sure I managed that one.

“Well, would you look at that!” Donna exclaimed as she exited the TARDIS. “Yet another castle! That’s how many this week?” she asked the Doctor. “It must easily be four going on six.”

“Some people pay good money to visit this amount of castles,” he answered her defensively.

“Yeah, usually Americans with too much time on their hands, or school parties. Everybody else has the good sense to keep away,” she moaned. “I wouldn’t mind, but why do they always think we want to stay in the dungeons so much? There’s only so many ways to be fascinated with the view through a barred window.”

“Come on, Donna! Where’s your sense of fun?” he asked, shrugging on his great coat. “One of these days we might run into a dragon or Merlin.”

“Or Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” she retorted. “If you could line up Bill and Ted I wouldn’t mind so much, as at least I’d get to meet Keanu Reeves then.”

“You are so shallow at times,” he griped. “All you care about are pretty boys.”

“And that’s wrong because…?” she asked, ignoring his scrunched-up-and-annoyed face. She suddenly had a decent thought. “Doctor, do you think we might meet Alan Rickman today? Do you think we could? Ooh! He’s _nice_!” She threw her arms around his neck to beg, “Please, please, please!”

He removed her from his body carefully. “I am _not_ your personal dating agency and I’ve no idea why you think I am.”

“One of us has to meet someone; and I’d rather it was me than you. No offense, but I would,” she admitted. “I couldn’t stand watching you get all the action.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” he huffed.

“I know!” she laughed, taking his proffered arm. “I’m all heart.”

He snuck a look at her body. “That’s one way of describing you.”

“That’d better not be a boob joke, because there will be consequences,” she threatened. She flickered her gaze to where the ‘consequences’ would occur.

“Oh no, Donna!” he hastily retracted the insult. “I’d never do that to you; well, not to your face.”

She gave him a brief glare-of-death. “Good! Glad we understand each other.”

He deliberate jogged her shoulder. “I think we do!” And they giggled together.

There was an inevitable sound of hooves before a bunch of mean looking blokes bore down on them to ask what exactly did they think they were doing walking along in the vicinity of his Lordship. 

“Got a high opinion of himself, this Lordship, hasn’t he?” Donna muttered under her breath to the Doctor.

“Comes with the territory,” the Doctor muttered back before breaking into his usual greeting. “Hello! I’m the Doctor and this is Donna. Is there any way we can help you?”

The leading henchman glared at him in answer. “Help?! You are of no use to me unless you are a physician.”

“D’uh! He just called himself ‘Doctor’,” Donna pointed out.

“Keep your woman under control, knave!” the henchman sneered at them. “She is speaking out of turn.”

“Why you…!” Donna began to say as she clenched her fists, reading herself to punch him out.

The Doctor niftily stepped in front of her. “My friend is a little unwell; please forgive her. I am indeed a physician if you need such a person. So I’ll ask again; can I help?” the Doctor tried to schmooze him.

The leading henchman grunted, and then made a sweeping signal to his comrades. “Take them to her Ladyship; they’re needed in the East Wing,” he ordered them.

Several pikes were thrust into the Doctor and Donna’s face to intimidate them. 

“Do I take it resistance is futile?” Donna whispered.

“Comply,” the Doctor answered her; and they shared a smirk.

“Ooh! Look at that,” Donna remarked as they trudged along. “I saw a tapestry just like that in the Victoria & Albert Museum once.”

“That probably is the one you saw in the V&A,” the Doctor confirmed. “There’s a lot of authentic stuff in there.”

“Have you ever been in the shop there?” Donna asked him enthusiastically. “It’s brilliant!”

“No! We’ll go there as soon as we get home,” the Doctor replied with equal enthusiasm. A henchman prodded him in the back with a pike to push him along. “Hey! No need to get pushy,” the Doctor griped.

“Some people are so impatient,” Donna sympathised. “Looks like he’s over compensating with the length of that thing too.”

“Is he?” the Doctor glanced back. “Why yes, I think he is. Must be terrible doing this job day in day out.”

“I bet the hours are lousy too,” Donna chimed in and they began to ascend some stone steps. “Do you have a decent pension plan?” she asked the henchman behind her.

He glared at her audacity. “You are not a very obedient wife, are you? You should keep quiet and let your husband do the talking!”

“He thinks you’re my husband!” Donna guffawed, and clutched at the Doctor’s arm. 

He assisted her up the winding steps as they narrowed.

“That makes a change.” He smiled back. “Haven’t lost our touch yet, have we? Though I think it might be wise to let them think that.”

“Whose safety are we worrying about here? Yours or mine?” She waited at the top of the staircase for the henchman to indicate which way they were supposed to go next.

“I’d say it’s more likely yours,” the Doctor admitted. He let them be prodded through a waiting doorway, eager to see what was coming next.

There was a woman sitting with her back to them by the hearth pretending she hadn’t heard them arrive in the room. ‘Ah! One of them!’ Donna immediately thought. 

“Your Ladyship, we bring you a stranger to our land who claims to be a physician. He calls himself the Doctor,” the leading henchman announced.

“What am I? Scotch mist?” Donna griped, but the Doctor grabbed her hand to halt her words.

“Please forgive my friend, she’s from Barcelona,” the Doctor began to explain.

“Not again! Can’t you stop using that joke? Nobody here will have even heard of Manuel,” Donna moaned at him.

“I’m making the joke for my benefit, Donna, not theirs,” he moaned back. “What joke should I say then since you seem to have such downer on my favourite one?”

“I don’t know! But you could stop using backhanded insults like that. You’ll be holding up a map of Germany next!” she blazed at him.

“I never said that, so don’t say I did!” he fumed in return. “That was your stupid excuse of a fiancé who said that, and you are so well rid of him! Coming with me was the best thing you ever did and you know it!”

“You expect me to admit that when I… when I…,” she stumbled to a halt, unsure where to go next with her words.

“When you searched for me for a year?” he suggested smugly. “Yes, I expect you to admit it.”

“In your dreams, mate!” Donna huffed. “You’re the lucky one in this relationship.”

“Am I? Why’s that then, Donna?” he pushed her.

“Because I’m… I’m…” She faltered again.

“Brilliant!” he added. “Now we’ve agreed about that one can we sort out the spot of bother here?”

“Oh go on then. You’ve talked me into it.” She grinned at him in defeat. They both turned their attention back to the inhabitants of the room.

The seated noblewoman stared at them with fascination and anger before sighing with an annoyed air and choosing to ignore their previous display. “Are you indeed a physician?” she asked the Doctor. “My ward needs some assistance.”

“What ails her, your Ladyship?” he genially asked.

“The Lady Marion complains of a malaise,” her Ladyship offered.

“Is that near Malaga?” Donna asked.

“Could be Marseille,” the Doctor countered.

Her Ladyship visibly bristled. “Lady Marion’s humours are much misaligned.”

“Sounds painful,” Donna drily commented.

“Lord Physician, would you kindly order your wife to hold her tongue!” her Ladyship demanded.

The Doctor stepped protectively in front of Donna as she indignantly told her Ladyship, “If he was my husband he wouldn’t have the nerve to order me about!”

“If?!” her Ladyship exclaimed aghast.

“She forgets so easily… that we’re married,” he enunciated carefully for Donna’s benefit, “as we have such a wonderful time together.”

“Oh, sorry… _darling_.” Donna gave him a cheesy grin. “You make me constantly feel like a young unmarried girl.”

“Do I? Why do you want one of… How do I do that?” He realised his mistake a bit late.

Donna hugged his arm to emphasise her point. “Because you buy me lots of presents, like the chocolate you’ll treat me to later.”

“Will I?” He frowned at her. “I might not feel like doing that later.”

“Oh I think you will, husband!” She glared at him. “If you know what’s good for you.”

“Since when did I do that?” he laughed.

“Since you asked me to travel with you,” she retorted, knowing she’d played her ace.

So he replied in the best way he could; he changed the subject. “Your Ladyship, may I meet Lady Marion?”

~o~


	2. Chapter 2

Lady Marion was quite sweet, for a teenager, Donna thought. And there was something about her that she took to straight away. Perhaps it was her ginger hair?

The Doctor was very impressed with Marion’s hair too; he had a distinct whiff of envy about him. “Long lost ancestor of yours, Donna?” he leant across and asked.

“Like I’d know that one,” she griped back. “Obviously not one of yours though…. Anyway, what’s the matter with her?”

“Not sure…” He peered surreptitiously at Marion. “She seems to have psychological problems of some sort.”

“Really? What sort of thing?” she whispered back. “Is she psychopathic?”

“Tell me what you think. Is this normal for your kind?” He glanced back at Marion as she sat sewing.

“What do you mean my kind?” she lightly fumed at him. “Which bit of ‘my kind’ are we questioning here?”

He brought his distracted thoughts from their airy-fairy wanderings. “I meant young gingers,” he told her.

She gave a snort of derision. “At least you allowed me to be young in that sentence.”

“Did I? How remiss of me… Oof! That hurt! Did you have to elbow me like that?” he whined.

“Would you have preferred a slap?” she threatened.

“No dear,” he mocked, causing Donna to tighten her lips as she held her retort in check.

Marion watched their antics wide-eyed in astonishment. “Don’t mind us,” Donna quickly told her. “He loves me dearly really but he loves to tease. Have you finished your piece of sewing yet?”

“No. It is a gift for my betrothed; his majesty will wear it next to his heart,” Marion replied dreamily.

“What’s he like then, this betrothed of yours? Is he high up in the ranks then? And does he generally have a thing for ginger-haired women?” Donna immediately asked.

“Donna, stop trying to nick her future husband,” the Doctor warned in a low tone.

“What?! I’m only asking… just in case he’s nearer my age and needs a woman instead of a girl,” she feebly defended herself.

“He’s a prince in the lower household. But why would you be interested in him when you have a husband of your own? A very handsome husband.” Marion blushed when she perused the Doctor.

“Oh him!” Donna thumped the back of her hand across the Doctor’s stomach. “He’s merely temporary until I find a real husband. He’s not even…” And then she realised her mistake.

“He is not your husband?! But why did you say he was?” Marion stood as she quizzed Donna. 

“Well I… I didn’t mean to mislead you but we…,” she stammered out in reply. 

“We’re betrothed but not married yet,” the Doctor finished for her. “It seemed safer to pretend we are.”

“Oh!” Marion contemplated him. “But Donna wears no betrothal ring at all.”

“I lost it,” Donna put in hastily. “The Doctor is hoping to earn enough money to replace it when he’s cured you.”

“Is that true, Doctor, that you aim to cure me?” She smiled coquettishly at him. “You might not mend my heart but win it instead.” 

“I can’t see that happening,” he remarked. “Or rather I can’t see Donna letting that happen.”

“Too right!” Donna agreed with a snort.

“We shall see,” Marion meekly replied. “Now if you excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.”

The Doctor and Donna watched Marion as she swept out of the room. “She’s deluded, I’ll give her that!” Donna commented.

“It might be more than that, Donna. If it is, it means trouble,” he murmured.

“So what do you want me to do? You’ve said the fatal words now, so trouble is going to fall on us like a ton of bricks. Shall I tell them you’re a friend of Dorothy’s? They’re bound to believe it,” she offered.

He rounded on her angrily, “Why exactly would they believe that? Unless you come across as a fag hag…!”

“How very dare you! I may have had my fair share of gay friends but I do know normal blokes too!” she almost spat at him. 

“Yes, we all know how much you ‘knew’ those blokes too, don’t we? Pity none of them decided to stay around afterwards,” he spat back.

“Why you ungrateful sod!” she moaned. “If they had you’d be completely on your own-some right now, so just be glad I’m here with you keeping you company.”

“Is this what this is? I thought we were arguing.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

“I’d have said it was more of a debate; but you can see it however you like, Spaceman.” She couldn’t control her returning smile, or the friendly shove she gave him.

To their surprise her Ladyship came striding into the room, demanding, “What is the meaning of this?”

Both the Doctor and Donna looked at her agog. “Is there a problem, your Ladyship?” the Doctor asked in friendly tones.

“Yes there is, physician!” her Ladyship sneered at him. “My ward not only claims you are not married but that you have designs on her!”

“She did what?!” they both exclaimed together.

“Please believe me when I say that I did not act inappropriately, your Ladyship, nor did I harbour any designs on Lady Marion,” the Doctor insisted. 

“He speaks the truth, your Ladyship. I was here the whole time,” Donna backed him up, reaching forward to take his hand.

Her Ladyship fought with her feelings for the couple standing in front of her. On the one hand they acted as though they were married, on the other Marion had claimed they had lied about that and they had not denied it, but they both denied the Doctor had any interest in Marion. She made her mind up; she could not risk Marion losing her betrothal to the prince. “Guards! Take him down to Master Thomas; and take her to be confined within the South Tower!” she yelled out to the pike-wielding henchmen standing outside the room. Turning her disdainful regard on Donna and the Doctor, she told them “I will talk with you both later!” before waving at the henchmen to take them away.

~o~

A couple of hours later the Doctor was dragged to the room where Donna was held captive. She’d never been so happy to see him as she was then. She threw herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck to convince herself he was unharmed. “Where the hell have you been?”

He blushed profusely. “They took me to Master Thomas.”

“And who’s he when he’s at home? Friend or foe?” she anxiously asked.

“He’s a sort of blacksmith,” he told her reluctantly.

“Blacksmith?! Did he brand you? Are you hurt? What did he do to you? I’m assuming he didn’t sit you down and have a nice cup of tea whilst showing you his jigsaw collection,” she fired questions at him, barely giving him the chance to catch his breath.

He hung his head. “No, he didn’t do any of those things. He…”

Her hands flew to her throat in horror. “He didn’t make you listen to Mum’s modern jazz music, did he? Please say he didn’t! If he’s converted you to that load of old tosh I’ll…” 

“Donna! It has nothing to do with music. He… do I really have to say this?” He pouted at her in disgust.

“I think you do,” she consoled him. “I promise to be very broadminded.”

“Alright! I suppose you’ll find out eventually,” he huffed, and began to undo his trousers.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Mates, remember; we said mates!” she shrieked at him.

“Yes, Donna! I was there at the time,” he said with exasperation. “But you need to see this.” With that, he dropped his trousers, exposing his lower body.

“Oh my gawd! Are those legs or bits of string hanging down?” Donna snickered.

“Oi! Not helping!” he griped. “Try looking higher.”

“If you have unclean underwear on I am not taking the blame,” she warned him. “Does that even count as underwear? What are you wearing, Spaceman? Are you turning into the Tin Man, Iron Man or a Transformer?”

“They’ve put a chastity belt on me, Donna!” he whined loudly. “Look at me! They’ve trussed me up like a chicken.”

“Wrong shape for a chicken; more like a kipper I’d say.” She got closer to have a proper look, giving the article a prod with her finger. “Why on earth would they put one of those THINGS on you?” Donna demanded.

“To stop me getting any unwanted attention, I assume. They obviously didn’t trust Maid Marion anywhere near me,” he pondered. “She fancies me. Well, who wouldn’t?”

“Oh! I see the problem now!” Donna almost squealed. “I think they call it ‘self-delusion’; yeah, that’s the blighter.” She dissolved into a fit of the giggles. “Fancied you indeed!” she snorted.

“I’ll have you know that I attract a lot of attention,” he pouted at her.

“I’d put that down to your weird hairstyle, Sunshine,” she scoffed. “Or you being…” she did an up and down movement with her hand, but thought better of pointing out his skinniness again. After all, he never pointed out her physique. “…tall, and in a suit,” she lamely finished. 

He eyed her suspiciously.

“Why did she say I had designs on her then? Answer me that one!” he asked triumphantly.

“You answered that one yourself earlier; she has psychological problems. I can’t argue with that. She thinks you are husband material, after all,” she countered.

“And we owned up to being engaged, so she thinks you have the same thought,” he replied.

“True, unfortunately! So how do we get out of this one?” she asked him. “Before you answer that one, do us a favour will you? Put your trousers back on.”

“Yes dear,” he chuckled in reply.

~o~


	3. Chapter 3

Donna watched the Doctor fasten up his trousers, and asked the question that had been plaguing her since he revealed his plight. “Did they say when you’d be allowed out of that thing?”

He blushed again. “Yes, they did actually.”

“Come on; what were the conditions?” she asked in a sing-song voice.

“Marriage: one of us has to be married,” he mumbled.

“You are kidding me! Seriously? Can they get away with that?” she gasped.

“It would seem so, judging by what happened earlier.” He gave her an unhappy look.

“Have we any idea when Lady Marion is expected to marry her prince, or is it some vague date in the dim and distant future?” Donna wondered.

“We need to find out, don’t we, because I have no intention of getting married,” he huffed.

“Before I get on my high horse about your disagreement, who exactly are you refusing to marry here? Marion or me?” She pinned him with a glare as she crossed her arms in a defensive mode.

“Obviously I wouldn’t want to marry Marion!” he chided her. “As for you…”

“Yes? As for me…? Am I that odious?” She took a deep breath. “No, don’t even bother answering that one as I know you feel that way. We’ll just have to come up with an alternative plan, won’t we?”

“Donna!” he tried to protest, but she held up her hand and then turned her back on him, preferring to look out the window instead. “Are you going to sing, sing, sing?” he asked trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m admiring the huge tracts of land, Sunshine; but I advise you not to before you ask,” she replied with tinge of sadness.

“Donna, come here,” he requested softly. He rested his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Any man would be extremely lucky to marry you.”

“Didn’t work for Lance, did it? And technically you’re not a man; as you all too often like to point out to me,” she answered dejectedly.

“And you point out what an idiot I am, so I think we’re even. Am I forgiven?” He gazed at her intently.

“I’ll think about it,” She gazed back and shrugged. “Do you want to sit down for a while? You look as though you’re in pain with that belt.”

“This thing is absolutely killing me! It’s rubbing places I didn’t know I had. I’m going to search through my pockets for some cream to use in my important little places.” He began to rummage through his jacket.

“How little are we talking here? Do I have to apply that cream? Please say I don’t,” she begged.

“Nah! That’d come under wifely duties unless you’re offering. Are you glad you’re not married to me now?” He gave her a cheeky wink.

“You say the sexiest things!” she laughed.

A henchman appeared in the doorway. “Her Ladyship wishes for you to attend to her and the Lady Marion, Lord Physician. Your betrothed is not required at this time,” he told them loudly.

Donna clutched at his hand. “Will you be alright?”

“I’m always alright.” He winced at her. “But I might need you to help me later.”

“Go on, go have a chinwag with the ladies and I’ll go explore the garden.” She gave him her best comforting smile.

He tenderly touched her chin. “Be careful. We didn’t arrange any similar protection for you.”

She snorted her answering laugh “Thank God for small mercies!” and anxiously watched him leave.

~o~

It was exceedingly boring sitting drinking mead with her Ladyship and Lady Marion. Why couldn’t they just get on with it?! Marion had sat and simpered at him, and her Ladyship had droned on and on about duty, the political merits of marrying Marion, and how much she wanted Prince Daniel to fulfil his promise. He’d much rather be playing cricket.

The sound of humming reached his ears, so he stood and made his way to the open window. Donna was below, trailing her hand through a fish pond of some sort as she hummed to herself. She looked delightful in the sunshine with the light dancing off her dainty ringlets. He stood mesmerised until he noticed other movement in the garden. A man had entered Donna’s sanctuary and the Doctor felt himself bristle as he readied himself to protect her.

“Excuse me!” he threw at the astonished ladies as he hastily made his way to the outside world.

~o~

Donna was sitting out in the fresh air, trying to get her head around this bizarre problem when she was suddenly joined in the garden by what Nerys would have described as “a well tasty geezer!” Not only that, but he’d practically thrown himself at her feet.

“My Lady! Your beauty shines out before you. I am undone by your radiance and fortitude,” he insisted on telling her as he fell at her feet and grasped her hand.

“You what? Are you feeling alright? Shall I fetch the Doctor to give you the once over?” she asked him with concern. “Carrying all that weaponry has turned your brain doolally. Why don’t you sit down for a while and tell me all about it.”

“My Lady, you are most gracious. When the Lady Marion was described to me I did not…,” the stranger began to say, but Donna hurriedly interrupted him.

“Do what? I’m not Marion, Sunshine, I’m Donna. Donna Noble. I’m here with the Doctor; the bloke I offered to fetch.” She pointed vaguely in the direction of the room the Doctor was now sitting in with Lady Marion and her Ladyship.

“Forgive me, Lady Donna! I thought you were another. I am Prince Daniel from the House of Andrewson, my Lady; I am enchanted to meet you!” He grasped her hand and kissed the back of it with ardour. To Donna’s amazement he lifted up her other hand to examine it, and then considered her with wonder. “Is it true, Lady Donna, that you are unspoken for?”

“I normally manage to speak for myself,” Donna informed him. “Or did you mean something else?”

He smiled a dazzling smile at her, making her heart skip a beat. “I was enquiring if you are married or betrothed,” he supplied with his warm grin.

“Oh!” Donna found herself blushing. “I’m not married… yet… but I hope to be one day.”

“No one has proposed to such a delightful creature as you? I cannot believe this!” the prince gushed, still clasping her hand as though she’d disappear in a flash.

“Well…,” she started to defend her state of non-marriage.

“She’s with me!” The Doctor strode purposefully up to her side. “Unhand my woman!” he ordered the prince.

Prince Daniel spluttered an apology to the Doctor, “Please forgive me, my Lord, but your chattel bears no jewellery to show your pledge!”

“Oi! Talk to the organ grinder and not the monkey!” Donna protested. “Living person standing here in front of you, in case you’ve forgotten.”

The Doctor took possessive hold of her abandoned hands. “Donna, try to remember you are talking to _the_ Prince Daniel, my love, and that things here are different,” he reminded her.

“Don’t I know it,” she huffed, letting him pull her away from the prince’s attentions.

The prince stood and contemplated them. “Is the Lady Donna your wife, my Lord?” Prince Daniel asked the Doctor.

The Doctor released one of Donna’s hands to wrap an arm around her waist. “Donna is my other half even though we are not married, your majesty.”

“Then you should marry her henceforth,” the prince insisted. “A woman of such rare beauty needs your protection.”

“I… erm… I’ll remember that, your majesty,” the Doctor blushed and stammered.

“Excuse me, your majesty, but are you here to marry Lady Marion?” Donna anxiously asked.

“That was my intention on this blessed day!” the prince confirmed. “Is there a problem I should become aware of?”

“Oh no! Quite the opposite in fact,” Donna answered with glee. “We’re hoping to undo a lot of harm later,” she said, giving the Doctor’s hand a squeeze.

“In that case, dear Lady Donna,” the prince said and bowed low, “I hope to be of service to you.”

~o~


	4. Chapter 4

“You hear that, Spaceman? He’s going to help us.” Donna excitedly clutched his hand. “Or should I say ‘you’?”

“If it helps me it’s bound to help you, Donna,” he pointed out. He bent to her ear and whispered, “Unless you fancy sharing me… I mean… the TARDIS with Marion.”

She tilted her head to answer him, “You wouldn’t, would you?”

Fearing the couple in front of him were about to embrace, the prince asked loudly, “What is this Tertardiss you speak of, Lord?”

“It is the name of the home we share, your majesty,” the Doctor told him proudly.

“'We'?” the prince queried.

“Yes, Donna and I live in the same home together.” The Doctor realised where this line of questioning might be going.

“Are there any others in this home of yours?” Prince Daniel asked, “Apart from The Lady Donna and you, my Lord?”

“Well…” The Doctor looked to Donna for assistance. “There’s also Arthur the horse.”

“He was out in the meadow last time I saw him,” Donna added.

“Thank you, Donna,” the Doctor said tersely. “Not helping!”

“Then we must remedy this situation on the morrow!” the prince declared. “I shall discuss this with his Lordship post haste.”

“Discuss what, Doctor?” Donna turned to frown at him.

“Why your wedding, Lady Donna to the Lord Physician here!” The prince beamed at her, and marched off, missing Donna sag against the Doctor. 

“Did he just say what I thought he did?” Donna asked faintly, glad for once that the Doctor’s quick reflexes had saved her from landing in the fish pond.

“I’m afraid so.” The Doctor looked angry. “I was hoping he’d announce his own wedding.”

“You know what thought did,” she commented, and they shared a glum look.

“Donna, if we have to, would you… could you act as if you…,” he spluttered.

“If I what?” she asked. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Do you think… Oh this is stupid! I should be able to say this to you.” He paused for breath. “We might have to actually get married so that I can get out of this thing.”

“I’d worked that one out for myself, Spaceman! Why are you so worried?” She placed a comforting hand on his face.

“Because we might have to act as though we’re in love,” he explained.

“I’d guessed that one too, if it’s any consolation.” She patted his cheek. “Stop worrying! As long as we get you out of that thing, the rest of it can go take a long walk off a short pier.” 

“Thank you, Donna,” he murmured as he brought his face closer to hers, rubbing her bottom lip thoughtfully with his thumb.

“STOP!” a voice commanded them, causing them to jump apart. “Do not kiss that woman!” the voice boomed at them again. They both glanced up to find an unfamiliar nobleman glaring down at them from a window. “You, Lord Physician, are to unhand that woman immediately and escort her to the dining room!”

“Yes your Lordship.” The Doctor gave a low bow and offered his arm for Donna to take. “Care to meet and greet the owner, Donna?” he asked her in a low voice.

“Try and stop me,” she readily replied.

~o~

It didn’t take them very long to find their way to the dining room; fortunately there had been plenty of wafting smells and hurrying servants to lead the way. Already within the room seated at an enormous table were Prince Daniel, Lady Marion, her Ladyship, his Lordship, and some woman they assumed was Marion’s Nurse. The Doctor and Donna were gestured to be seated between Lady Marion and Prince Daniel respectively.

As they ate, Donna was shocked to feel a hand grabbing at her. She scowled at the prince. “What are you playing at?” she asked him in a low whisper. He smirked back at her.

For his part the Doctor felt a foot brush against his. “What do you want, my Lady?” he hissed at Marion.

She immediately blushed at him. “I know not of what you speak. But are you well, Lord Physician?”

‘Peculiar girl!’ he thought. “I’m very well, thank you; as is my betrothed,” he added pointedly.

Marion looked around him to view Donna. “She seems to be in good spirits under the tutorledge of my betrothed. He is instructing her to laugh delightedly,” she told him mischievously.

“Is he?” The Doctor swung his attention to catch the prince deliberately tickling Donna’s wrist. “Does your majesty need to take things in hand yourself or are you able to let go?!” he asked the prince as forcefully as he could.

Donna wrenched herself out of the prince’s clutches and gave the Doctor a grateful smile, while she squeezed his thigh to console him. “I’m fine,” she whispered, “but thanks!”

He lifted up the hand that was resting on his thigh and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it tenderly. “He’s a predator,” he warned her in hushed tones. “You’ll have to watch him.”

She mouthed back ‘I know’ at him, just before his Lordship boomed at them again. “Lord Physician! Such demonstrations of affection are unseemly in public! Desist!”

Anger seethed through Donna, and she was in two minds to deliberately grab the Doctor by the lapels and snog him to death! 

“Donna! No!” He gripped her fist firmly. “Whatever it is, please don’t do it. I’ll make sure you get that chocolate later.”

“Is that a promise?” she smirked at him.

“One among many,” he smirked back. “Try and work on the prince to get him to marry Marion as soon as possible, will you?”

They shared another smile, and then turned back to their dinner companions to carry out their plan.

“Your majesty, when do you plan to marry Lady Marion?” Donna boldly renewed their conversation.

“My Lady Donna, why have chicken when you can have steak?” he asked enigmatically.

“Pardon?!” she exclaimed.

“You must be relieved to see the prince again, Lady Marion,” the Doctor stated.

“I am aware of being pleased to see someone again, Lord Physician,” Marion answered him, accidentally on purpose catching his arm with her hand, giving it a slight fondle in the process. 

He followed the progress of her hand with dismay.

“See!” her Ladyship hissed at his Lordship. “Our arrangements are coming undone.”

Slamming his goblet down on the table, his Lordship leant across the table towards the Doctor. “Lord Physician!” he announced. “I am told that there has been a slight indiscretion on your part regarding the Lady Donna. We must rectify it immediately. I will send word to Father Augustine that you are to be married on the morrow in our chapel.” Noticing that the Doctor was about to protest, he added, “Let us drink to your nuptials!” 

The whole table responded in kind, raising their glasses.

“That’s put the tin hat on it,” Donna remarked to the Doctor.

“It’s not over ‘til the fat lady sings,” he retorted before Donna elbowed him in the ribs.

“You’ll pay for that!” she threatened him.

“What? I didn’t mean you! I’d never mean you, Donna! Oh heck! I’m going to regret this perhaps more,” he replied.

“You’ll regret it if I don’t meet you at the altar,” she sneered.

“That’s it!” He suddenly stood, pushing his chair firmly away, and then painfully whimpered slightly as he got down on one knee in front of her. “Donna, would you…in the words of David Cassidy… while he was still with the Partridge family, singing, "I think I love you," and…, I-I just wondered by any chance you wouldn't like to...”

“You are kidding me!” she gasped. “You’re not, are you?”

He looked about the room, avoiding Marion’s questioning glare. “I think I might be.” It was on the tip of Donna’s tongue to say ‘no’; then he whispered quite clearly, “Please.”

She took in the general anticipation of the room, revelling in the Doctor’s agitation before answering with a firm, “Yes.”

There were satisfied sighs from her Ladyship and his Lordship, as they saw the wedding of their ward made safe again. His Lordship requested more wine from the hovering servants, much to her Ladyship’s satisfaction.

“Sorry, Donna, but it seemed the right thing to do then,” the Doctor whispered directly into her ear. “The proposal, I mean.”

In turn Donna brought her lips to whisper back into his ear, “So… Basically you're saying marriage is just a way of getting out of an embarrassing pause in conversation.”

Much to their joint embarrassment his Lordship boomed out at them again, “Lord Physician, please refrain from such activities until your wedding night!”

“Oh heck! I’d completely forgotten about that bit,” he admitted to a stunned Donna.

“You truly are alien,” she replied.

~o~


	5. Chapter 5

“Donna!” he began to appeal to her, but the prince suddenly gripped his arm and pulled him away from Donna’s proximity.

“’Tis not right for you to spend the eve of your wedding with Lady Donna, my Lord.” Prince Daniel grinned at him. “And ‘tis not right for her to remain here.” The prince turned his attention to the Nurse. “Pray take Lady Donna to her room so that tradition may be satisfied.”

“Yes, your majesty,” the Nurse readily complied and grabbed Donna’s arm.

“Doctor? Should I go?” Donna asked him hesitantly.

He considered their situation. “It’s alright, Donna; I’ll be fine. Try to stay out of trouble until tomorrow, eh?” 

“Meet you at the church then!” She gave him a brave smile, and wondered what the heck she’d let herself into this time. At least life wasn’t dull these days.

The Doctor watched her retreating form and wished he could have spared her this. Why hadn’t they sorted out their covering story from the very beginning? And when would he ever learn?

“Fear not, Lord Physician, you will see Lady Donna on the morrow; unless you are having a change of heart,” Marion softly spoke to him, placing a hand upon his arm and giving his bicep a squeeze, he noticed. “Do you regret your impulsive action?”

He took her hand and removed it from its resting place. “My Lady Donna always elicits such an affect upon my soul; she is my guiding light, Lady Marion. Just as you do so for Prince Daniel,” he told her firmly.

“I think the prince is very impressed with your betrothed. Perhaps he would rather swap? How do you feel about that, my Lord?” She smirked at him.

‘Feel? I want to punch his lights out!’ was the Doctor’s first thought. “Neither I nor Lady Donna would be happy with such a thing,” he replied as sweetly as he could. “We pledged each other an oath of unity many moons ago.”

“Indeed? Such oaths can be broken… if need be.” Marion smiled shyly. “Perhaps you have been able to form a different opinion since then?”

‘Get over yourself, love!’ he thought, but he merely shook his head at her as a denial.

“My Lord, you are wise to hold onto such a woman,” Prince Daniel broke into their conversation; slapping the Doctor hard on the back.

The Doctor staggered under the unexpected impact, allowing the prince to think he had the greater physical strength. What was it with these people? Why were they trying to change his mind when the end of his plight was in sight? Talking of which… “Your Ladyship, pray tell me, where have you sent Lady Donna?” he implored her. 

Her Ladyship seemed annoyed with his question before answering him, “You are not to seek her out, Lord Physician! She has been taken to the Tower.”

‘To be part of the tour, no doubt’ he found himself thinking. “Which bit is the Tower?” he asked instead.

Marion giggled. “It is the tallest part of the castle, Lord Physician! Did you not see it upon your arrival?” she asked.

“I… erm… I did not, Lady Marion. We were busy conversing with his Lordship’s men,” he replied. ‘And avoiding being impaled’, he thought.

“Do not fear for Lady Donna’s safety. She will be well looked after, and she will join you refreshed on the morrow,” her Ladyship added.

The Doctor silently wondered what else she’d be by the time they met again.

~o~

The Doctor couldn’t sleep. The noise in the castle was totally the wrong sort, and he was worrying about what they might be doing to Donna or planning to do to her. Dipping his head out of the room he’d been given, he checked the coast was clear and headed towards where the Tower was. The castle was lit only by moonlight as he wend his way through the corridors, and was about to tentatively knock on where the sonic indicated Donna was when a finger tapped him on the shoulder.

“Lord Physician! Have you come to elope with me?” Marion gleefully asked him.

“What?! No! I…” He pried off the hand that taken hold of his arm so possessively. “I came to see…”

“You came to see me? How sweet! We shall have to be discreet, as Nurse will wake if we make a noise,” Marion whispered next to his ear.

The Doctor thought this visit might have been a bad idea, right up to the point that Marion pushed him against the wall and tried to kiss him; after that he became convinced. “Donna! Donna!” he yelled out as soon as he could draw breath.

“What?” Donna’s voice came grumpily from behind the closed door. “What do you want, Spaceman? There are people trying to sleep here! I have to be up early because some numpty is apparently marrying me.”

The smile he heard in her voice lifted his spirits, and he roughly shoved Marion off him. Glaring at her, he indicated that she should go away. Marion threw a sulky look at Donna’s door and slunk off. He huffed out a sigh of relief. 

“Donna? Are you okay though? Is there anything I need to worry about?” he asked through the keyhole.

“Nah! Though you might want to check your pockets for another wedding ring, as I left the previous one back in the TARDIS,” she informed him.

‘I know!’ he thought as he brought it out of his jacket pocket, held it up to the moonlight, kissed it and carefully put it back again. “Oh dear! I’ll think of something, so don’t worry!” he called through to her. “And Donna...?”

“What, Timeboy?” she answered.

“Nightie night,” he crooned.

“Night!” Donna chuckled. “Now go away before they catch you here.”

“Yes dear,” he mocked; and they giggled together yet again.

~o~

“Lady Donna! Time to arise!” The Nurse shook Donna awake. “It is your wedding day!”

“Already? Can’t I have five more minutes?” Donna tried to return to sleep, but Nurse roughly shook her.

“You can have extra time in there if you are happy for his Lord Physician to marry Lady Marion in your place,” she threatened.

‘Cheeky cow!’ Donna thought. “I’m moving! This is me… getting up, and waking up.” She forced herself out of the bed covers.

“Good!” Nurse bustled about, tidying things. “I shall send the servant girls in to dress you.”

“No, that’s alright. I know how to dress myself; I learnt that trick when I was three years old,” Donna insisted.

“You do not understand, Lady Donna! You need help to don your wedding robes,” Nurse explained.

“Oh!” Donna realised her mistake. “Send them in, by all means.”

Mary and Anne, two local girls, hurried in to help with Donna’s dress and hair; placing pieces of jewellery on hairbands, and carefully weaved beautiful flowers into small braids. Donna found the effect stunning.

Both girls clapped with glee when they saw the result of their handiwork. “Lady Donna! You are a beautiful bride. Your betrothed is a lucky man,” Mary sighed.

Donna squeezed both girls’ hands. “Thank you! I owe it all to you,” she admitted, and was pleased to see them blush.

Nurse showed in his Lordship, who gasped in awe when he saw her. “Are you ready for me to accompany you to the chapel?” he asked, offering Donna his arm.

“Thank you, your Lordship; thank you for everything.” She reached over and kissed his cheek, gratified to see him blush too. Nurse handed Donna a modest bouquet of flowers from the garden that matched the ones in her hair, and they made their way to the ceremony.

His Lordship’s musicians played a tune Donna did not recognise as they arrived at the chapel doors. Prince Daniel swept up to her, anxious to say something to her. “Don’t even try saying anything!” She glared at him, holding up a threatening finger to point at him. “I belong with the Doctor, not you!”

The prince looked only momentarily crestfallen before turning his attention towards Lady Marion, Donna was happy to note. Proved her theory about him being a fair-weather admirer good and proper!

“Shall we?” his Lordship encouraged her with a smile; and they began their procession down the aisle.

The church was surprisingly full of all sorts of people; all of them complete strangers, apart from the lone figure standing in front of the altar. It was hard to guess his mood from his position, which was facing away from her; but then she reasoned that it didn’t matter as this wasn’t a real wedding leading to a real marriage. This was the equivalent of a green card scenario. At least the Doctor was better looking than Gérard Depardieu; pity he wasn’t as good an actor, but you can’t have everything, she thought.

At that moment the Doctor noticed that everyone was gazing intently behind him, so he turned and caught sight of Donna wearing a dress loaned by her Ladyship. He unknowingly flashed Donna his megawatt grin as he took in the vision before him. He felt his hearts leap happily as he held out his hand towards her, drawing her closer to him.

~o~


	6. Chapter 6

The whole ceremony had a surreal quality that wasn’t lost on Donna. Father Augustine was babbling away in a language that totally meant nothing to her. “It’s Latin,” the Doctor explained in a whisper. “We’re getting a full Mass.”

Her eyes said ‘What?!’ back at him as she realised that the whole thing could take absolute ages, and she was starving! Right on cue her stomach rumbled. He gave a silent chuckle and leant in to whisper again, “Not long ‘til the wedding breakfast, then we can get out of here.”

His breath caused goosebumps to form on her neck, and she found herself wishing that their circumstances could have been different. But what was she thinking? Different circumstances would have meant a different woman standing in her place, and her being out on her earhole!

Finally they got to the wedding vows, and Donna found the sentiments weren’t too far removed from what she felt for the Doctor; apart from the ‘obey’ nonsense that she deliberately garbled, and all that ‘worship with my body’ stuff. As if that’d ever happen!

For his part the Doctor had been word and pitch perfect, whilst throwing her knowing little looks that she was sure would eventually make her laugh. “My precious,” he whispered as he placed the ring on her finger, and she almost lost it completely. Almost, until he kissed the ring on her hand, creating all sorts of things to course through her and a blush to rise on her cheeks.

Before they knew it, Father Augustine pronounced them man and wife, and the Doctor saw his chance to kiss Donna, finally, without walnuts and anchovies getting in the way. As he leant in expectantly he was blighted by Donna moving her head to give a smile to Mary and his Lordship patting him on his back. What was it with these people? Quickly recomposing himself, he managed to peck at Donna’s cheek, and he was gratified to gain a beaming smile in response. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and they turned, smiling, to the people of the congregation. 

Once outside, they thanked the many people who wished them well; and failed to notice the figure of Lady Marion sidling up to the Doctor. “It is not too late to annul your marriage, Lord Physician,” she suggested to him out of Donna’s earshot.

Yet again he found himself resisting her unwelcome advances, with a shudder. “Your betrothed awaits your presence,” he told her pointedly. “As does his Lordship. I do not think you should keep them waiting,” he finished and deliberately turned his attention onto Donna and Anne, who was placing her congratulations.

Donna surreptitiously eyed Marion’s departing form. “I see the bunny boiler is still stalking you,” she commented.

“Please! Don’t even joke about that movie,” he retorted with feeling, and wrapped an arm around her waist.

~o~

“Now we have had the wedding breakfast it is time for you to depart from us, Lord Physician, and embrace your wedding night.” His Lordship laughed loudly in his merriment.

“Ah! We have to go, your Lordship, as we have to continue our travels and need to be elsewhere.” The Doctor tried to make a move towards the exit.

“I think you forget the conditions of your release, Lord Physician. You gain the key on your wedding night, but you will not gain your freedom to continue travelling until we have proof that your marriage has been consummated. Now…,” he said, and beckoned them to follow him, “a room has been prepared for you and your new wife in… here!” He opened a door and showed them into a bedchamber, striding over to the four-poster bed that loomed large in the room. His Lordship smoothed his hand over the bottom bed sheet. “Fresh and clean I see. We shall expect otherwise in the morning.” He grinned with meaning at the Doctor.

They both watched his Lordship leave the room with mixed feelings. “What on earth is he on about?” Donna asked the Doctor, who was looking mortified, as soon as she could.

“He’s expecting to see a spot of blood there; to prove we’ve consummated the marriage and that you were a virgin,” he explained. “But don’t worry… I think I might be able to supply the blood.”

“Oh, Spaceman! Does it hurt that much? I’m so sorry.” She rushed to wrap her arms around him in a hug. “We’ll get this thing undone then I’ll rub that cream in for you. How does that sound?”

“Pretty good so far,” he murmured into her hair, returning her hug enthusiastically .

“Shall we start the unveiling?” she asked, waiting for him to undo and drop his trousers. His pained expression as he did so was not lost on her. She carefully placed the key she’d been given in the lock and turned it. With a bit of help from the Doctor she managed to turn the key sufficiently for the lock to open and the chastity belt device clanged to the floor. “Oops! They’ll know it’s off now, won’t they?” She gave him an embarrassed shrug as she knelt to assess the damage. “Oh my God! You must have been in agony,” she told him with tears in her eyes. “You’re covered in…” But her voice broke as the tears spilled out.

He kissed her forehead tenderly. “You’re already making it better.” He cried out in pain before biting his lip as she dabbed her finger on his groin to get a trace of blood.

“Sorry,” she sobbed, and wiped the tip of her finger on the middle of the bed. “There! That’s that tradition dealt with; now we can get on with making you feel better,” she told him with slightly more determination. Blowing cooling puffs of air onto his reddened skin she began to apply the cream the Doctor had found to ease his distress. “Even your poor bottom,” she cooed at him. “I’ll soon have you right as ninepence.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Donna,” he sighed happily as the cream began to work. He ran his hand over her face in gratitude.

“Yeah, I can see that your gratefulness is growing,” she smirked.

“Donna!” he huffed in anger and embarrassment. “What do you expect me to do… when you’re…”

She patted his bottom, taking care to find a part where it didn’t hurt, “Honestly? I’d be insulted if you didn’t.” She screwed the lid of the tube back on and eyed her handiwork expertly. “Did you want to risk wearing something, or shall we let things run free? I can offer you a nightshirt.”

“Erm… just the nightshirt I think, thanks.” He blushed at her.

She let him undo his shirt as she fumbled for the nightshirt and stood, keeping her eyes above chest height. She held out the nightwear to him. “Climb in and I’ll join you in a minute.”

“What are you wearing?” he asked hesitantly.

“It’s okay. I promise not to molest you,” she smirked at him, “but only if you promise not to look.” Not waiting for his answer, she turned and started to peel off her clothing, placing the dress carefully over the back of a chair. Trying for nonchalance, she hummed to herself a comforting song as she slipped into the nightgown that had been left for her.

“Do you want help with your hair?” he asked in a small voice from the confines of the bed. He began to stretch out towards her before she could answer. “The flowers look beautiful in your hair like that. It is such a shame you can’t wear them all the time.”

“Just think of the stench as they died,” she grinned with embarrassment at his compliment. “It’d be a bit high maintenance.”

“You’d be worth it,” he told her softly, flexing his fingers to undo the woven braids; and then running his hand through the loosened tresses.

Giving in to her impulse, she swatted his arm. “Give over! You’ll be asking me out on a date next.”

“Don’t need to, Donna.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “We’re married, remember,” he whispered into her ear with an exceedingly low and husky tone.

~o~


	7. Chapter 7

“You smarmy git,” she pealed with laughter. “You had me convinced for a second that you meant that.” Releasing herself from his grasp, she walked around to the other side of the bed to him and climbed in. She pummelled the pillow to try and make it softer and laid down carefully. “Are you okay? Has the soreness gone away at all?” she asked and risked a peep at him. “If I’m too close just nudge me, alright?”

“Donna...” He moved nearer to her. “Do you…?”

“I think it best if I keep over here where I can’t hurt you,” she told him in no uncertain terms.

“But Donna…,” he tried again.

“And seeing as you’re a bit… excited… I don’t think I should encourage anything by accident,” she spoke over him again.

“For crying out loud, Donna! Will you stop pretending this is normal?!” he fumed at her. “We’ve never even shared the same bed before, though admittedly we did kiss that time; and you’ve just carried out an intimate act on me that does come under wifely duties... We need to talk about this. Can’t you see that?” he implored her.

“Alright!” she huffed, and sat up in the bed. “Talk. Tell me what I’m supposed to do now. Now that I’ve married my best friend, touched him up and generally spoilt everything.”

He sighed deeply. “I thought you were okay with helping me,” he said.

“So did I,” she answered. “But I was wrong.”

“What’s the big deal? You’ve touched men before, so it’s not as if you’re virginal or something. I haven’t defiled you,” he reasoned.

“I know that. But those men wanted me to… touch them… like that, and you didn’t; so that makes all this awkward,” she trailed off, averting her gaze and fiddling with the blanket.

“Donna, I positively encouraged you to rub cream on me, so I think it counts; and apparently I liked it. Okay, I definitely liked it, and I refuse to deny it.” He took hold of her hands and forced her to look at him. “Come on; since when couldn’t we laugh together? You ought to be pointing out how skinny I am, or that my feet are cold, or… I don’t know…anything.”

She pressed her foot against his, pulling it back rapidly, “Bloody hell! They’re like ice. Was your mother a polar bear?”

“No,” he laughed. “Nor was she from Iceland.”

“Bugger! That was my next question,” she giggled. “Good job your hands aren’t that cold.”

“Are you sure?” He released her hands and pounced on her midriff; causing her to squeal under the tickle attack. “Ooh Donna, I never knew you were this ticklish,” he remarked with relish.

“Now you do, so geroff!” she shrieked in his ear. 

She tried to fight him off, so he moved his weight on top of her, holding her in place.

“And let this opportunity go to waste? I don’t think so,” he told her with glee.

“Don’t! I’ll accidentally kick you in the vitals, and you don’t want that, do you?” she panted; so he stopped. “Thought so,” she sneered at him.

“You little madam,” he griped. “I thought you cared.”

“I do; lots,” she confirmed. “I wouldn’t have let you marry me otherwise.”

“Thank you for marrying me, not many people would,” he told her softly, and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. 

Donna gave a snort. “I can think of at least two women who would love to be in my position right now, lying underneath you like this,” she laughed.

“Ah! But would they have put up with me like you do? Or applied that cream for me... And maybe that wasn’t the best example to use,” he laughed too. “When I had to share a bed with Martha it felt so awkward compared to this, you know. And we were both fully clothed; not all half-naked like we are now.”

“Aw, you do make me feel special,” she mocked. “Did you rise to the occasion with Martha too? Was it that what was awkward about it?”

“Good grief, no! I had control over everything then,” he said with a smile.

“Which begs the question, why did you let it happen earlier?” Donna asked curiously.

“Why?” he spluttered. “Well... Apart from you rubbing on stuff, you mean? I suppose it's different with you. I can be myself when something happens and I know we'll be alright.” He toyed with a lock of her hair. “You're brilliant in that way. It's what I love about... Us”

She patted his cheek. “You are sweet at times.”

“I can be more than that,” he remarked. “Especially now we're married.”

“What difference is being married going to make? Except for the ‘couple’ question when it comes up. We won't be able to deny that part anymore,” she pointed out.

“True! In fact we have to be positive about it in the morning to get out of here, so we'd better get some sleep,” he added. “Are you tired?”

“Yeah, I could do with a kip. What are you going to do?” She stroked his arm distractedly, he noticed with a grin, as she asked her delicate question.

“Don't worry about me. I'll have a healing sleep, and then I'll probably enjoy having a cuddle here with you!” he admitted readily. “Good night, Mrs Donna Noble.” He chastely kissed her.

“Good night, Mr Doctor Noble,” she couldn't help replying, and returned his kiss. 

They snuggled down together, and enjoyed a peaceful sleep.

~o~

The Doctor was surprised how long he slept, curled against Donna's warmth. It felt like being a cat lying on a radiator. A very soft and squidgy radiator, so perhaps that wasn't the best analogy in the circumstances. His skin felt much better, almost normal, and... Oh! That was new! He tried to shuffle away from her to save himself further embarrassment.

Donna immediately stirred. “What? What's the time? Is it time to go?” she asked blearily.

“Shh! I'm just moving position. Don't worry,” he whispered.

She moved her body to follow him in the bed. “Come back. I was comfortable then,” she griped.

“You wouldn't be for long,” he muttered.

“Why? What's happened...? Ah! I see the problem; or should I say 'feel' the problem?” she snickered.

“Donna," he whinged. “It's not funny. I'm trying not to... Stop laughing at me!”

“Why? Nothing like a bit of laughter to deflate a man.” She broke into a fit of the giggles.

“I'm not a man, remember?” he pointed out.

“As if I could ever forget, Time Lord!” She prodded him to emphasise her point, but he caught hold of her hand.

“Ah! A clear case of wandering hands syndrome,” he cried triumphantly. “This hand needs punishing.”

“What are you going to do? Sentence it to 10 hours community service?” she laughed.

“Nah! I'll think of something better than that. It might involve spiders...,” he idly threatened.

“You wouldn't?!” she exclaimed. “That hand has been trained in the noble art of smack-a-you.”

“Sounds deadly,” he replied and laughed. “What am I saying? I know it is.”

“Yes, not many men survive to tell the tale like you did,” she pondered. “You didn't secretly like it, did you?”

“Who me? No,” he lied. “Hated every second with you.”

“Thought so.” She beamed at him. “Just like you're hating being wedge up against my body, I notice.”

“Am I? Blimey, I hadn't noticed you there at all,” he replied.

“Is that what that is, you not noticing me? Weird,” she snickered.

He blushed. “I thought we weren't noticing,” he grumbled.

“No, I never said I wouldn't notice. I implied I'd ignore it, which is a slightly different thing. Talking of different things...,” she began.

“Here it comes... The 'what else have you got two of' question.” He looked resignedly at her.

“What? I already know what you've got two of, you plonker! I was going to ask about when the Gestapo come running in,” she clarified.

“Oh, right!” He looked relieved. “They’ll inspect the bed, hopefully decree us as fully married, and we can escape from the Hills Have Eyes people as soon as poss.”

“Do you think they'll really buy it?” she anxiously asked.

“Don't see why not; though we could add to the story...” He expectantly considered her.

“Don't look at me as if I've just opened your tin of cat food! Tell me what you were thinking of,” she demanded.

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “We could... maybe... be snogging when they come in, you know, make it look like we could've...,” he stuttered to a halt.

“You are such a schoolboy at times. If you want us to act, then we'll act, no problem, just say it!” she huffed.

“It,” he answered immediately, and Donna dissolved into laughter again. “Do you think we should practice?” he asked.

‘That's a new one on me,’ Donna thought. “Go on then, you've talked me round.”

~o~


	8. Chapter 8

Hesitantly, he shuffled nearer, as if he'd never done anything like this before. He pressed his lips against hers cautiously, as though he expected her to thump him, which was probably true. Pulling back to assess the situation, he decided it was an ‘on’ one, so he pressed his lips to hers again. This time Donna slightly responded, giving him a nudge of encouragement; so he continued practising.

It was turning into quite a good practise session, he had to admit as he was gaining plenty of input, and masses of stimulation. In fact, he was enjoying himself enormously. Donna’s soft body underneath his was proving to be most invigorating. And most distracting; so much so that he didn’t hear the soft knock on the door, someone creeping in, or that same someone arrive by the bed. He only heard them when they coughed discreetly.

“My Lord Physician? Sorry to disturb you and your wife after your wedding night, but we need to consider the evidence.” His Lordship watched them with interest.

Two very flushed faces came out from under the covers. The Doctor tried to prise Donna’s hands from where her fingernails were now digging into his flesh in abject terror. He hoped the interloper hadn’t heard all that moaning and groaning they’d been doing a moment earlier; that would have been extremely embarrassing if they’d heard that! “We… erm… might need a minute or two before we can…,” he stuttered and vaguely indicated towards their clothing neatly folded up on the chair across the room.

“Indeed!” his Lordship exclaimed with delight. “I shall remove myself until you call for me.” His Lordship then gave them a hearty laugh before sweeping out of their room.

“That was not how I thought this day would start. This will be interesting.” Donna smiled at him. “I’ll get to see how dimensionally controlled those trousers of yours really are for myself; in an up-close and personal way.”

“Donna!” he gasped and blushed. “Can we just…” He made a hasty run for his clothing.

“Yes. Definitely interesting,” Donna guffawed from the bed. “Now chuck us over something to wear please?” She gave him a coy look that she knew he didn’t believe. “Do you always go commando?”

“What a question to ask?!” he spluttered. “They nicked my underwear, remember, when they put that contraption on me.” He turned his back to her as he tucked his shirt in. “It was extremely embarrassing.”

“All I’ve got of my underwear is my knickers,” Donna countered. “Going braless is not a good look for me.”

“Oh, I don’t know… you looked very…” He blushed again as he turned towards her, catching her adjusting the finer points of the dress. “Lovely,” he finished saying.

“I think the flowers got the credit for that,” Donna mumbled out as she searched under the bed for her shoes.

“No… no, I don’t think they did; they added to it.” He picked up her stray shoe and handed it to her; and then grinned as she allowed him to place it on her foot.

“Cinderella went to the ball and got the prince,” she joked as she winked at him.

He moved up towards her. “Which one of us is Cinderella in this scenario? Me or you?” He captured her lips again, causing her to fall backwards onto the bed, taking him with her; but for a few brief moments he didn’t care. This was his fairy tale ending, and he was going to have it.

“Lord Physician? Have you finished dressing your wife yet?” his Lordship’s voice boomed out.

“Does he ever stop us having some fun?” the Doctor whinged quietly to Donna.

She snickered, “Doesn’t look like it. Good job we won’t be sticking around here for ever.”

“I like your reasoning,” he leered at her, and called in his Lordship and his manservant.

The Doctor leaned nonchalantly against the fireplace as the manservant inspected the bed, and nodded to his Lordship that all was as it should be. As the Doctor thought it he heard Donna breathe a sigh of relief to his side. He grinned at her and held out his hand. “Come here, beautiful,” he enticed her, taking hold of her to place a kiss on her cheek.

“Lord Physician! You are in company,” his Lordship reminded him.

“Ah! But you didn’t seem to care mere minutes ago when you entered uninvited, your Lordship; and you are intruding on our honeymoon.” The Doctor looked more determined now. “Can we leave? We have fulfilled our part of the deal.”

His Lordship suddenly looked quite reluctant to let them go. “Yes, you may take your leave, but I shall miss you, Lord Physician. Your tales of your travels are most entertaining. Can we not persuade you to stay a while?” he asked hopefully.

“Thank you, your Lordship, but we have much to do, and my beloved wife and I need to spend some time adjusting to our circumstances,” the Doctor explained.

“You will be greatly missed by us all; especially Lady Marion,” his Lordship told them. “I cannot delay your plans any longer I see.”

“Lady Marion has her betrothed, so will be diverted by him no doubt; and we thank you for your hospitality,” the Doctor replied. “We shall leave as you promised immediately.”

His Lordship stepped aside and let them both leave the room, much to Donna’s relief. “I can’t wait to have a proper wash under the shower,” she whispered to the Doctor, “and a decent cup of tea.”

“Now you’re talking,” he whispered back with delight. “Fancy anything else with your tea?”

“What are you offering?” she asked. “We’ve run out of bourbon biscuits; but I think there might be some custard creams.”

They made their way along the corridors and out of the castle, breaking out into the sunshine. “I was thinking of something entirely different,” he admitted.

They turned to wave at his Lordship’s household, not surprised to see that her Ladyship hadn’t bothered to show up. 

“What sort of different?” Donna wondered. “Are you expecting me to bake once I’m out of this dress? Surely not!”

He helped her side-step some rather disgusting looking puddles. “No, I was thinking of some more practising…”

“Were you!” She risked glancing up at him as they trekked their way to the TARDIS along the poor-excuse-for-a-road. “What on earth did they put in your drink back there?”

“Honey! It was only honey, and some hops; the usual. Why?” He eyed her suspiciously. “What were you thinking?”

“Nothing beyond the shower, to be honest,” she said with a laugh.

He pulled her closer to him. “Now that is a good idea worth thinking about. I could wash your back if you like?”

“Doctor, you don’t have to pretend anymore; you do realise that, don’t you?” She suddenly stopped walking and grabbed his arm to get his attention. “We’re as we were, Donna and the Doctor. Nothing more and nothing less. This is all very flattering, but it’s got to stop. You’re sounding like a Carry On film. If I’m not careful you’ll be chasing me around the field with me dressed in little beyond suspenders and you dressed as Benny Hill!”

“But… but… we’re married now, Donna. I thought you understood that,” he angrily pouted at her. “Or was last night a drunken blur for you?”

“Drunk?! I was nowhere near that, and well you know it! I really don’t understand you at times. Why are you focusing on our marriage so much? Since when did you…,” she ranted for a bit, and then stopped to examine him closely. “You’re not well. I think you might have septicaemia or something poisoning your blood after that flipping contraption cut you up.” She took hold of his arm and tried to drag him towards the TARDIS. “I need to get you home, right away.”

“Donna!” he wailed. “Donna would you stop doing that. I’m fine. I had a healing sleep to get over all of that. DONNA!”

“What?!” she fumed. “No need to shout.”

He eyed her angrily, and then pounced on her, slinging her over his shoulder. “I’ve had enough of this, woman! You’re coming with me, into _our_ new bedroom where you can spend as long as you want in the shower.” 

He strode off, taking long, measured steps, ignoring her squeals of protest all the way back into the TARDIS.

~o~

“How dare you!!” she blazed at him, almost combusting with her anger. “Think you can just dump me in here without there being dire consequences do you? Let me tell you straight…”

He advanced on her until he was pinning her against the wall, his hands either side of her head. “No! Let me tell you straight. You don’t fool me, Donna Noble. I know you wanted me earlier; I felt your response when we kissed,” he told her sternly. His voice then softened, “And I know you think I wouldn’t want you in return; but I do, Donna Noble, I so do.” He smirked at her puzzled expression. “Now get in that shower.”

~o~


	9. Chapter 9

“Shower?” she echoed. “Are you seriously trying to order me about, Sunshine? And what's this about _our_ bedroom? Why do you think I want to sleep with you again?”

His dark angry eyes suddenly changed to intensely hurt as he gazed at her; his breath seemed to catch in his throat. “You don't want to sleep with me? But... Donna! Last night was the best night’s sleep I'd had in years, and... and I... I liked sleeping with you. You're all warm and soft.” He gave her the full kicked puppy look. 

“I gathered that you liked our sleeping arrangements last night. Okay, I wasn't too unhappy with them too. But it is not right to carry on sharing the same bed,” she argued.

“Why? Why can't we? I know I keep coming back to this point, but we ARE married!” he huffed.

“Are we though? I'm not so sure. It sure didn't feel like a real wedding ceremony to me,” she admitted.

“That's because you are confusing it with a modern service in an Anglican church; like the one you almost had with Lance,” he pointed out.

“Did you have to bring him up?! No, take that back, as Lance typifies what I'm on about.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “Weddings, fairy tale weddings, happen to other people. I've been a bridesmaid at quite a few of them so I know what I'm on about,” she told him with a snort. “The wedding when you met me only underlined for me that I'm not meant to be married; it isn't allowed. Don't you see?”

He took in her desperate agitation and morally-low feelings. He moved his hands from pinning her to the wall behind her down to grasp her hands. "Donna, have you thought what else it might mean?" She shook her head at him. “It means you are meant to be with me, here, as my wife. That was a genuine, proper service with all the bells and trimmings. As far as Earth is concerned we are definitely married, for good.”

“So you're lumbered with me? On paper I mean, since you could kick me out the door if you so wanted.” She gave a defensive little shrug.

“Yes, you're here to stay, if you want; here with me forever,” he brought his face nearer to hers now. “Do you want to, Donna?”

Her eyes flitted desperately around his face, looking for something in particular. “You know I don't want to leave you, so why are you asking? Was this all some major put up job so that you could tease me about wanting to get married? If it is, I'm not laughing. I know what you look like naked now and I will use that information against you,” she threatened.

“Ah! But I know the same about you, so is that a wise move?” he grinned at her.

“What do you mean? I had my back to you!” She was extremely miffed.

“And a lovely back it is too.” He lifted a hand to caress some of her hair, giving into the impulse now. “I wasn't going to tell you but that nightgown you wore wasn't very... thick. In fact I'd say it was transparent.”

“But... but... you never complained you could see through it.” She looked at him in shock.

“Why would I? I liked the view,” he reasoned.

“You're doing it again! The whole 'ooh Matron!' routine.” She turned her gaze to catch his fingers stroking through her hair. “Why are you doing all this?”

“Well... I think they call it loving your wife in your neck of the woods. Or seduction; that's an excellent word. Hmm... seduction,” he rolled the word around on his tongue.

She found herself watching his mouth in a whole new light, and quickly gave herself a mental shake. “So, you're feeling a bit frisky after wearing that chastity belt yesterday,” she tried to reason out his behaviour.

“That reminds me. I might need you to double check that everything looks and feels okay. Would you do that for me?” He gave her a look she couldn't quite make out.

“Wifely duties again, huh? When do you want me to look? Right this second?” She dropped her gaze down to his trousers and totally missed his mouthed 'oh yes!’ 

“After we've showered will be fine. Shall we meet back here in ten minutes or so?” He waited for Donna's nod of approval. “You'll recognise me easily. I'll be wearing a bath towel. Will you be carrying a copy of Pride & Prejudice?”

She laughed and playfully swatted his arm. “And to think Lady Marion thought you were a catch. Some people don't have the brains they were born with.”

He kissed her cheek. “I'm glad you added to yours.”

“What exactly does that mean?” she asked as he moved away.

“Nothing dear!” he mockingly threw at her as he headed for his shower.

He returned to their designated bedroom 10.7 minutes later, but he was sure she would not have been counting, and sat on the bed to wait for her. The sound of the shower stopped as he parked himself, and he fought hard with his imagination to stop being bombarded with guesstimates about how the water trickled down her wet skin, over her full breasts and down her stomach towards... 'Down boy!' he told himself. All the fun might be over before he'd even confirmed his imaginings. “Are you okay in there? Do you need any help?” he called out.

“No thanks! I think I can wield a towel after all these years of practise,” she called back. “Did you need to go and get your cream again?”

“I think I'll wait until we get the results of your inspection before I do, if you don't mind? I might need something else,” he continued to yell at her.

She stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a bathrobe. “What sort of something else? Or can I easily guess that one?” She gave him a knowing smirk. “Something that might have arisen by some chance?”

“Well, something might have popped up... You know.” He gave her a cheeky wink and deliberately lay back on the bed, his arms propped behind his head so that he could contemplate her. “Nothing you can't handle, surely?”

“A little thing like that? No problem.” She climbed onto the bed next to him, satisfied that her words got a wounded reaction. “Right, let the dog see the rabbit,” she said and took hold of the edge of his towel to lift it away. “Hmm... I think we might have to amputate.”

“What?!” he exclaimed in shock; and then he caught her expression. “You saucy minx! You think you've got me right where you want me.”

“It's a good position, I admit that.” She grinned broadly at him. “And generally things are on the up! So there are good prospects. While I think of it, I need to buy Gramps some bait for when he goes fishing.”

He sat up abruptly and caught her hand. “Are you saying I look like a small worm? Seriously?”

“Nah! I wouldn't say that. A medium sized one at least...” She mischievously smiled at him.

He shoved her down onto the bed. “You need taking in hand, young lady, and I'm the Time Lord to do it. Now answer the original flipping question: does everything look alright now?” He hovered over her mouth, sorely tempted to take full possession of her now, good and hard. He momentarily shut his eyes as he tried to force out the thought of 'good and hard' from his mind, but things below him were having their own thoughts it would seem.

Donna flicked a glance at his 'problem'. “It seems fine to me, but then I have no idea what normal is for you. Those dimensionally controlled trousers of yours hide that I'm afraid. But as I said, it looks fine.... definitely fine.”

“You can rub pretend cream on me if you like,” he offered, causing Donna to laugh like a drain.

“I bet you'd like that. Would that be with a specially home-grown hand-picked method... And why do I sound like a Birds Eye Peas advert now?” she laughed. “Did you want me for anything else before I go and get dressed?”

“Yes,” he replied hurriedly. “There's something else I wanted to show you.”

“You did? What?” she barely got the question out before he brought his lips down on top of hers.

He moved delicately over her mouth, teasing apart her lips with his tongue, until she opened to him; letting him taste her varied tones, and drinking in her body. He groaned loudly when she let out a small moan, answering her primitive call. He released her so that she could take a breath. 

“That was worth being shown,” she uttered, and they both giggled together.

“Do you want to be shown again?” he asked huskily.

“I don't think I noticed enough the first time. Yeah, show me again.” 

She reached up to capture his mouth this time. Hungrily they shared kiss after glorious kiss. 

He moved his body against hers, creating a pressing need to take matters further. “Oh Donna!” he passionately moaned, turning his attention to her voluptuous curves and succulent breasts. He couldn't get enough of her softness, her scent or the taste of her skin. “I think I've died and gone to heaven.”

“Eugh! Gross! Does that make you a necrophiliac, or me?” Donna pondered.

“Why on TARDIS are you thinking about dead bodies, you strange woman?! I was enjoying myself here,” he griped.

“I never said you had to stop, did I? In fact, that bit you did then... yes, THAT bit... do that again,” she encouraged him. 

“I can do that with added oomph if you like?” he offered.

“What do you mean...?” she began to ask, before crying out with delight as he paid careful attention to her body. She thought it couldn't get better than that; and then he entered her, filling her in all ways imaginable. “Bloody Hell!” she cried out in ecstasy. “You might not do this often, but you certainly know what you're doing.”

“And all this is yours on a nightly basis, with added morning and afternoon access. Batteries not included,” he replied.

She playfully swatted his bottom in reply, and they laughed yet again. Then by mutual consent they moved together, letting their passion build and overflow; both of them crying out in delight.

“I think you might have been right about this marriage lark,” she whispered once they were suitably sated. They shared a brief kiss. “But don't tell anyone I said that.”

“Yes dear,” he mocked, and they shared a contented smile.

“What I don’t understand is: why do we always end up being married in one way or another?! Why is everyone obsessed with us shacking up?” she asked with a huff as she stretched out lazily on their bed.

He slowly kissed her shoulder. “It is a bind, isn’t it? We don’t have to worry about it now though.”

She moved to give him better access to her neck. “It just gets my goat. _I’ll_ decide when I get married, thank you very much.” She trailed her hand down his body. “That belt thing caused you any lasting damage? I hope not.”

He felt himself respond to her tender touch. “Doesn’t seem to have, but I might need to run a few tests.” He kissed his way down to her cleavage, “Collect some data personally.”

“Who gets control of the pencil?” she asked, suppressing a groan.

“Pencil?!” he protested indignantly. “You need to reacquaint yourself with me, love.”

“Do you know what? I think you’re right,” she leered at him. “I might get to like your experiments.”

“You’ll like them even more when they go sonic,” he promised. 

Her shriek of excitement was all the answer he wanted.

~o0o~


End file.
